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by Dedicate Kiwicrocus (cranky__crocus)



Series: SMACKDOWN '11 R2, R3, Final - CIRCLECEST [7]
Category: Emelan - Tamora Pierce
Genre: F/F, Gen, Goldenlake, smackdown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-04
Updated: 2011-06-04
Packaged: 2017-10-20 03:26:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/208251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cranky__crocus/pseuds/Dedicate%20Kiwicrocus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You miss them, don’t you?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home

**Author's Note:**

> Written for SMACKDOWN at Goldenlake: fiefgoldenlake.proboards.com

Lark found Sandry sitting in the Duke’s study, a quilt over her legs and a cluttered assortment of letters over her lap. She looked incredibly small in her chair; it caught at Lark’s heart strings.

            “You miss them, don’t you?” she asked softly as she stepped into the room. Sandry offered a brief smile and gestured to the seat in front of her. The smile was ephemeral, but Lark expected nothing more.

            “I miss them terribly,” Sandry confirmed. “You miss Rosethorn, don’t you?”

            “Every day. But she needs this.”

            “They all do. Sometimes I wonder if I do…”

            “You wish I had brought you travelling?” Lark was surprised to hear this; Sandry had been set on remaining in Summersea near her uncle.

            “It’s merely a velleity, nothing more.”

            Lark withheld a sigh to hear Sandry speak so formally. The citadel was clearly having effect on her, establishing the traits the girl’s unique upbringing had avoided.

            “I would love to see Namorn with Daja—travel with my  _saati_ ,” Sandry murmured, eyeing one letter with strong font. “Or see Tharios with Tris—even with the murders, I would love to see Khapik!” She lifted one letter with academic, slanting font. The next she held up contained font that was less sure, a little scratchy but still neat enough. “Or Yanjing with Briar—such a different culture.”

Sandry stared at Lark. “And you’ve been to all of them. You could tell me so much more than any of their teachers put together. Would you like to be there, too? If I had wanted to travel, would you have taken me?”

            Lark took Sandry’s hand, careful to avoid crumpling any of the letters. “I would have, for you. My own travels are through until it is required of me. You have been many places, just as I have. Tell me: how does it feel to have a home?”

            “Better than travelling,” Sandry answered after a moment.

            “And do you think Briar, Tris and Daja would prefer to have a home to come back to, a stationary friend to write to, or another travelling sibling?”

            “A home.” Sandry answered without hesitation. “I can be a home.”

            Lark smiled and squeezed Sandry’s hand. “Just keep writing them letters: a traveller with a satchel of letters has a home in heart.” She moved her chair closer to Sandry’s, propping one arm over the young woman’s shoulders—she seemed lonely for presences she knew. “And I can tell you about those places without leaving this room. Which would you like first: Namorn, Yanjing or Tharios? Mind, I have some stories of Summersea, as well! Like the time I performed here as an honoured guest, even as a dedicate…”

            Sandry smiled and rested her head against Lark’s arm, letters gathered into a pile to one side. “Thank you, Lark. Start with that one!”

            “Well, Rosie was the one who encouraged me…”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! C: Hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
